Tortures of the Past
by Tryoku16
Summary: Bruises fade father, but the pain remains the same. I still remember how you kept me so afraid. :: Annabelle Macnair was born a muggle. She was raised in fear of the Wizarding World, and with the wrong impression. When she meets up with wizards and witche
1. Of Knowledge and Surprises

She knew about them. Perhaps she didn't know as much as others, but she knew enough. She knew they existed, and to her great misfortune, she knew what they were capable of. However, she wasn't one of them. She never was and never will be. This knowledge was beat into her mind when she was young, too young. Although the years have passed and she is no longer "too young", the lessons learned left marks that never seem to fade.

The marks continue to remind her of who she is and her place in this world. She was dirt. Not low enough to go unnoticed, but certainly low enough to be walked on. Her purpose, she had learned, was to stay out of the way of her superiors and serve them whenever they demanded. She was born into this twisted world. A twisted world, she had been taught, that did not belong to her or her kind.

She told no one of what she knew. Why would she? They wouldn't believe her. Even to her the topic seemed to be just a fantasy, a dream, and a bad one at that. Another world? What a joke. How can there be a secret world? There can't. Oh how she wished she could believe that, but she couldn't. She knew too much to think it wasn't real.

She wanted to tell. Her nights were constantly restless, and telling someone could ease her pain. It could also bring her more. Fear circled around her like a vulture waiting for Lady Death's visit. It was always watching. There were a few times when that devilish creature seemed to have disappeared. There were a few times when she could've told. Did she? No, she kept quiet. Fear is very powerful, and Fear can make even the strongest of warriors, weak.

"Annabelle! Oi! Annabelle!" Annabelle turned around to see a rather excited looking blonde running towards her.

"Hey Tara! I thought you said you were going to meet me back at the house!"

"I did," Tara stated coming to a stop beside Annabelle, "but I've changed me mind. I've got great news!"

"Oh boy. What now?" Annabelle gave her friend a worried look and took a step away from her.

"Oh don't be silly! It's not something to worry about! I've got a surprise for you!" Tara had a big grin on her face that couldn't help but show how proud she was of herself. Annabelle, however, was not convinced.

"Another one! No! Not again! No offense Tara but your surprises aren't exactly enjoyable."

"What are you talking about? Of course they are!" Tara put her shopping bag filled hands on her hips.

"You call getting a bucket full of steak sauce dumped onto your head, on your birthday enjoyable?"

"I told you Annabelle. It was an accident. I put the confetti in a bucket identical to the one mum put the steak sauce in for the steak dinner."

"What, you couldn't tell the weight difference when you were hanging the bucket above the door?" Annabelle smiled.

"Well I just thought I put a whole lot of confetti in it!" Tara started to laugh. "You should've seen your face when we opened the door!"

"Not funny." Annabelle shook her head but smiled anyway.

"I'm sorry. Anyway, you're going to love this surprise! We have to get something for it though." Tara looked in the window of every passing store. She finally found one she thought was suitable. "Come on Annie." Tara grabbed a nervous Annabelle by the wrist and pulled her into the store.

"What are we doing here?"

"Shopping of course." Tara made her way over to a rack of skirts while Annabelle stared at an interesting piece of clothing, if you could call it clothing, displayed by the door. It seemed to be a maroon bikini top with enough coverage for a seven year-old, with silver strings hanging just bellow the breast line. Annabelle was just wondering why, or better yet how, you could where such a thing when Tara came running towards her, once again, with an excited look on her face.

"What do you think?" She held up a faded and frayed blue jean skirt that appeared to stop mid-thigh. "I still have to find the perfect top."

"I think it'll look good on you."

"On me? No, no pet. This is for you," she said giving Annabelle a mischievous grin and holding out the skirt for Annabelle to take.

"Me? Ha! No," Annabelle held up her hands, shook her head, and backed away from the brazen miniskirt.

"Yes. Yes. You are going to try it on and you're going to love it," Tara hung the hanger on Annabelle's outstretched arm. With groans of protest, Annabelle was pushed into the nearest changing room, with the ostentatious skirt.

"So what do you think?" rang Tara's voice through the changing room door. Annabelle looked at herself several times in the mirror. Front view, side view, back view, other side view, and front view. She turned around and slowly bent over, just to see how much the skirt would actually show. "Well? What, did you die in there?" came Tara's voice growing steadily impatient.

"I suppose I could wear it, just as long as I don't drop my keys," Annabelle sighed in defeat.

"I knew it! I knew you'd like it!" You could hear Tara jump up and down, clapping with glee. Annabelle never wore anything that showed skin, and Tara was determined to break her of that "horrid" habit.

"Here, try this on with it." Tara handed a slinky black top over the door.

"What's wrong with the shirt I have on?"

"Are you joking? It's a stupid T-shirt!"

Taking off her shirt, Annabelle snatched the top. She didn't like that Tara thought she needed a clothing makeover. Annabelle was perfectly happy with her "stupid T-shirts". She slid the top over her head and faced the mirror. As much as she hated to admit it, she looked better in what Tara had picked out for her than in anything else that hung in her closet at home. She turned and looked at both sides. This definitely showed off her hourglass figure. She turned to look at her back. What she saw made her snatch off the top as if it were on fire.

"I can't wear this," Annabelle sputtered out as she threw the top over to Tara.

"What? Why not?"

"It's-uh-it's really itchy."

"Annabelle, it's silk."

"I just don't like it ok?" Annabelle retorted, almost too harshly.

"Alright. Don't get your knickers in a twist. I'll go find another one."

When Tara's footsteps finally faded Annabelle couldn't help but laugh at her stupidity. Did she actually think she'd forgotten? Did she actually think that the nice top would magically make it all disappear? That, one day she'd just wake up and it would have all been a dream? Did she actually even try to think that? Annabelle banged her head against the wall in frustration.

"What was that?" Tara had returned with a much less revealing top.

"What? Oh. I tripped."

"And you call me the klutzy one? Anyways, here you are, Anne. I think you'll like this one."

Another slinky top was tossed over to Annabelle, only this time it was dark brown and definitely covered more skin. It had a v-neck, and the sleeves had slits in the edges with little gold buckles on the shoulders. Annabelle's favorite touch to the shirt was the laced sides that gave you the ability to control how much skin was exposed. She threw it on, and looked in the mirror. The skirt showed off the shape of her hips nicely, and brought out the deep blue of her eyes. The top accented her chocolate brown hair, and Annabelle thought she looked stunning. She didn't care if Tara was going to like it or not. She was buying it.

"Oh and check out these." Tara flung a pair of dark brown boots, which reached just below the knee, over the door. "Don't you love me?"

"Miss Everlynd are we getting a bit cocky with our self?" Annabelle chirped.

"You know you love me. Don't the boots make the outfit look absolutely smashing? Cody is going to drool all over you."

Annabelle swung open the door and gave her best friend a piercing stare. "Tara you didn't—"

"I got us two very hot dates from the states! Can you believe it? We are going out to a club tonight." Tara stood proudly waiting for a thank you, but it never came. Instead Annabelle stomped right past Tara groaning.

"What?" Tara jogged after her friend.

"You how I am with guys. I'm not going through with this. No."

"Annabelle! You have to!"

"No! No I don't!"

"Please? I already told Jeff and Cody our address, and they're coming at eight."

"What? You gave out our address! Tara! We don't know these people! They – they could be rapists. Maybe they're escaped convicts!"

"Annabelle, what is it with you and your fear of dating?"

"I'm not afraid of dating! I'm just afraid of guys I don't know!"

"Why?"

Annabelle was shocked at Tara's blunt and sudden question. Why? She can't tell her why.

"I – I – I don't know," Annabelle finally managed to say while looking at her hands.

"So are you coming?" Tara clasped her hands together and made the best puppy-dog-face she could muster. Annabelle, seeing no other way to get out of this without telling Tara the truth, agreed.

Oh how she wished she wouldn't have.


	2. Damaged trucks, and familiar strangers

**Disclaimer: **Doesn't the word kind of speak for itself? (Sorry I didn't post it last chapter)

A/N: This is my first story on Please review and tell me what you think.

The buzzer by the apartment door rang at eight-fifteen. Tara rushed over to it with only one high-heel shoe on.

"Yes?"

"Is this Tara and Annabelle's place?"

"Yes! Yes it is! Come on up!" Tara turned and limped towards her other shoe.

"Hey Tara where's that lint roller?" Annabelle walked out of the bathroom, picking at bits of fuzz that had already attacked her newly bought top. "Tara wh – AH!"

"OW! Annabelle!"

"What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? You're the one that fell on me!" Tara stood up rubbing her side.

"Sorry, but you were the one in the middle of the floor!" Annabelle threw her an annoyed look. Tara was about to protest when a knock was heard at the door. Like a French maid, Tara rushed to answer it. A few moments later two American guys, dressed in nice jeans and dress shirts, were standing in the living room, and Annabelle had taken refuge in the bathroom.

"Annabelle come on! They're here!" Tara hollered rolling her eyes. Why was Annie so afraid to meet new people? With another "come on" and a "hurry up", Annie was standing in the living room with the other three.

"So Jeff, where are we going?" Tara asked to the tall, tanned American standing next to her.

"Pin 41. It's a new club not too far from here," Jeff said giving Annabelle a slight nod and Tara a huge smile. His accent was unfamiliar, but he was pretty good looking. Cody, Annabelle decided, was the guy standing closest to her. He was extremely good looking, and Annabelle hoped American guys weren't as stupid as they have been said to be.

Once again she did not get her wish.

:S:S:S:S:S:

Cody, she found out, had a brain, but it was probably only the size of a peanut. "Fixin' stuff" as he had put it, was the only thing he knew anything about. Annabelle on the other hand actually _graduated_ from high school with great marks, and was planning on attending Oxford next year.

"And, uh, after that, we drove 'round to 'nother part of town. Ya see there was this ol' truck that some how got hit by a tree. Don't know how that one there happ'n, but it sure did."

"Hey Cody? I'm going to run to the ladies room. Ok?" Annabelle shot up from her seat, before he even had time to reply, and was half way to the restroom door. She looked out onto the dance floor to see Tara and Jeff dancing their hearts out. Those two had hit it off right away. Tara, of course, got to be with Mr. I'm-in-law school-and-I-kiss-the-dean's-arse, while Annabelle got stuck with Mr. All-bronze-and-no-brains.

Annabelle didn't plan on going to the bathroom. She just needed time away from Billy Joe Bob and his life story of damaged trucks and broken toilets. Actually she needed time away from everything. The club, although really big, was packed, and it definitely had a lot of smoking sections. The whole place, in Annabelle's mind, seemed like one giant cigarette. A few more steps and she found herself walking down a hallway littered with snogging couples. Her black leather purse accidentally hit a drunken couple, but they were too engrossed in their tongue war to notice. She had no idea where her feet were taking her until she reached a door with a green exit sign above it. With a sigh of relief she pushed open the door and stepped out into a rather dark alley.

She took a look at her cell phone. "Only ten o'clock and it's this dark outside?" She had asked to no one. Annabelle was afraid of being left alone; when she was, she found that talking to herself made her loneliness somewhat fade. She turned right, for the alley ended to her left, and walked along the hard, stone ground for what seemed like hours. She was thinking about turning back when she ran into, what she assumed to be a wooden crate. She took her cell phone out to check the time again only to find it going ballistic.

"What the—"

"How many times do I have to tell this to you boy? You are NOT the head of this family yet! Watch your arrogant tone!"

Annabelle froze and sunk to hide behind the crate. Where had the voices come from? Certainly she would have heard someone talking that loud before. They seemed to just have appeared.

"Yes father. I wasn't meaning to sound of higher authority—"

"Well I should hope not!"

Annabelle pressed against the crate and strained to hear the voices that had suddenly dropped to mere whispers.

"I am sorry father."

"I believe a sound beating would teach you to hold your tongue when you are accompanying me on one of my trips."

Silence.

"I suppose you have a few things to take care of so I shall see you back at the manor." With a crack, the older of the two figures vanished. Annabelle's breathing stopped short. She knew that sound, that familiar sound that brought terror, along with relief. She knew she had stayed too long. She needed to get away from here. They would be most angry if they found out someone of her kind had been listening to their conversation. She did the only thing she knew she could do. Run. Grabbing her purse, she swiftly fled from the spot where she had wrongly eavesdropped.

_Click, click, click. _

She cursed her lovely boots that would without a doubt give away her presence. Sure enough she heard footsteps behind her. The figure caught up to the girl quickly. Annabelle gasped as she felt a cold hand on her arm and a harsh tug, forcing her to face the figure.

"Lumos!" Light flooded the alley. The figure turned out to be a boy Annabelle's age. He had bleach blonde hair. His skin was a pasty white, and his eyes, a pale blue to match it. He had an angry look upon his face, and stood pointing a glowing stick at Annabelle. He looked her over from head to toe. She looked very appealing.

Annabelle had recognized the word he spoke and the stick in his hand. She knew what he was, and knew his place in this world. She quickly dropped to her knees, throwing her arms out in front of her.

"Forgive me Sir. I did not know of your position." She found herself saying some familiar words.

The boy was shocked at getting such a reaction. For a few seconds he stood with a dumbfounded expression upon his face, but quickly pulled himself together. He should be use to getting reactions similar to this, considering his bloodline.

"What is your name?" He questioned, looking down at her.

"Annabelle. Annabelle Macnair, Sir." Annabelle had answered not looking up from the spot on the concrete path to which her eyes were fixed.

"Macnair? That name sounds familiar." The boy took his eyes off the kneeling girl to think. The name was definitely familiar. Was it someone he took delight in torturing? No. The only names he knew he tortured were Potter, his pathetic side kick Weasley, and their mudblood friend Granger. "What were you doing?" The name would have to wait.

"Sir, I was just taking a walk—"

"And you what, decided to go stick your nose in other people's business?" He drawled, glaring at the still kneeling girl. She never looked at him. Why?

"I did not mean to Sir. Honest. I simply stumbled upon your conversation." Her voice was growing weak. She was frightened.

"What did you hear?"

She didn't answer.

"What did you hear!" He bent closer to her.

She flinched. "Nothing. Sir, I heard nothing, only a loud crack. Sir, please." Annabelle lowered her head to make it touch the floor.

"Stand up."

Annabelle raised her head up reluctantly, but kept her eyes on the ground.

"What are you, deaf? I said stand up not sit up." He lowered his wand and let out a chuckle. She certainly was a strange girl.

A confused Annabelle slowly rose to her feet clasping her hands behind her back, and still not looking at the stranger. She is not permitted to look into the eyes of his kind as if she were one of them. The stranger stared at her for a moment. Why was she acting this way? He didn't know her, so she must definitely not know him. Then again, her name was familiar. Still, no one at school would even do this, except for first years but she was, beyond all doubt, _not_ a first year. He liked being treated like this, even though it was a little weird. Finally someone had taken notice of his superiority.

"How old are you?" He walked around her and headed towards the club.

"I turn eighteen in a week, Sir." She immediately turned around and followed him, still transfixed with the ground.

"Why are you walking behind me?" He stopped and gave her an inquisitive look.

Annabelle held her breath, not knowing exactly how to respond. She thought she was supposed to follow behind.

"I – I don't understand, Sir." Annabelle closed her eyes. Surly she was going to be punished for making him sound as if he asked a stupid question.

"How could you not understand that?" He snorted out. Annabelle opened her eyes, her face still parallel to the concrete.

"I – I – I thought I was suppose to follow behind someone of your ability, Sir." She wrung her hands that were still behind her back. No one had ever asked her that question before. She had always followed behind.

"Really? And what, pray tell, might my ability be?" He stood straighter now, folding his arms across his chest.

She gulped. "P – Please kind sir, you are a wizard and I am . . ." she paused preparing for the blow that would surly come next, " . . . I am a mere m – muggle."

:S:S:S:S:S:

Draco had been both shocked and disgusted. How could he have considered her, a filthy muggle, to be a witch? At least she seemed to know her place. She followed behind him all the way back to the club without saying a word. He didn't hold the door open for her and she didn't seem to mind. She kept quiet. When they stepped inside he turned to face her.

"Look up." He stuck his wand in the pocket of his black slacks. Annabelle hesitated. Was this a test? She was never allowed to look into the eyes of a wizard. "You obviously didn't come here alone, and if your wretched little muggle friends see you trailing behind me with your face glued to the floor they'll have questions, no doubt. Look up." She slowly started to lift her head. When her eyes locked with his she looked away. Draco almost smiled. She definitely knew better than to offend a wizard. Even if she was a muggle, and did not deserve to stay in his presence, he was going to enjoy having her around. He turned and walked down the once crowed hallway of snogging couples, with Annabelle following closely behind.

They weaved their way in and out of dancing pairs. Annabelle was just trying to get around this one couple that looked like they were going to injure someone, when she heard her name. Only one person could have a voice loud enough to be heard over earsplitting music, Tara. Annabelle looked all around, until she found a red-in-the-face blonde sitting on Jeff's shoulders, waving at her furiously. She tried to discreetly get her friend to shut up, but the boy noticed and followed Annabelle's gaze to Tara. Annabelle, at first, thought he would do something horrible to her friend but instead he just turned to her and asked for the clearly drunk girl's name. Annabelle answered him and turned to find Tara standing in front of her.

"Hey Annie! What's happening? Oh who is your friend?" Tara inquired swaying gently. She gave him a wink and let out a giggle.

"Draco Malfoy." Draco gave her nod as he answered. Annabelle's ears perked up at the name. It was familiar.

"Oh! Sexy name." Tara giggled and tried to take a drink from a glass that was not in her hand. "Oh? Hmm. Well I'm going to let you two get going." She gave Annabelle what was _supposed_ to be an inconspicuous wink, and turned around stumbling back to her date. Annabelle laughed and looked to Draco who had a look of repulsion on his face. She quickly shut her mouth. Draco turned on his heel and strode off, with Annabelle trailing behind him.

They had walked only a few yards past the club when Draco suddenly stopped, making Annabelle almost run into him.

"What are you doing?" Draco questioned her.

"Sir?" Wasn't this what she was suppose to do? Isn't she supposed to serve? She bowed her head in shame for displeasing him.

"Well as much as I loved having you act as if you were one of my slaves, I don't like being near filthy muggles," He sneered at her. Annabelle just stood there, with her head hung. Rolling his eyes he turned to face her. "Are all muggles as dense as you? I told you to stop following me."

"I'm sorry Sir." Annabelle gave him a slight curtsy and started to walk back to her apartment building.

Draco was left staring at a fading figure of the most bizarre girl he'd ever met. "Muggles are positively the strangest things to _ever _walk this earth," He mumbled to himself, turning and disappearing into the cold night air.

Annabelle chided herself as she walked back to her apartment alone. He was so considerate not to punish her when she was foolish, and all she did in return was act like a bumbling fool towards him. If she still lived in her parents' house she surly would have been punished. Her back began to prickle at the thought of the punishments she use to be given. She quickly tried to brush the thoughts from her mind.

"Don't think about it. Focus on something happy. Cheesecake! You _love_ cheesecake! Oh! I believe you still have your mum's old "I Love Lucy" videos! Watch them when you get home. Tara most likely will be going home with Jeff, so you'll have the entire apartment to yourself, and you can stay up as long as you like." She felt ridiculous talking to herself. "At least no one is around to see or hear you." Just as she let the words escape her mouth a twig snapped in the bushes across the street.

"Who's there?" She tried and failed to make herself sound fearless.

A rustle of leaves was the only reply.

"Hello?" Her heart was pounding against her rib cage.

Something swished in the alley between the shops beside her.

"Get away from me!" She held onto her purse tight and began to run. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was too petrified to scream, too terrified to cry. All she could do was run. She turned onto the street where her apartment building was located. _Almost there_, she thought. She ran up the steps and flung her back against the door.

"Damn," she sighed, hastily searching for her keys in her purse, with an occasional glance down the road. She would've shouted in glee when she touched the precious metal, but the door supporting her back vanished.

"Annabelle!"

Annabelle was sprawled out over the threshold, looking up at Mrs. Snoopky from the third floor.

"Hello Mrs. Snoopky," Annabelle waved trying hard not to sound anxious.

"What in heavens name are you doing on the floor?" The old woman gave Annabelle a flabbergasted look.

"Oh. Just tripped I guess." Annabelle gave the elderly lady, what she considered to be an assuring smile.

"Have you been drinking? What are you wearing dear?"

Annabelle gathered herself, and made her way up the stairs. "No. Mrs. Snoopky. I'm fine. Have a nice night." She jogged up a flight of stairs, to apartment 1D. Stepping inside, she slammed the door behind her and locked it.

"It was nothing, probably just the wind. It plays tricks you know," she said to herself walking into her room and changing into her nightdress. He wouldn't try to find her. It would be too much of a bother. She threw her hair into a bun, and walked over to her closet.

"Just watch some "I Love Lucy" episodes and forget everything about tonight." She rummaged through some old boxes before she found her mum's old videos. The old theme song played in her head as she popped the tape into the VCR.

"Now Annabelle, some nice relaxation time." She plopped herself down onto the sofa getting situated for a very witty night.


End file.
